Murder Moste Mysterious
by kiss.her.already
Summary: "So far all of the families have asked us to keep it out of the press to prevent the fallout. The thing is Hermione, this case is extremely sensitive. Some aurors are arguing that these people deserved to die. At any moment, the Ministry could decide to drop it. These people— many weren't even Death Eaters; they deserve justice."
1. Chapter 1

It's funny, when people tell you something so irrevocably wrong, so utterly awful— nothing really changes. People still stroll across the sidewalks, albeit almost too casually with their faces turned in a way that could almost pass for uninterested, the gray skies retain their gloomy disposition, the trees still violently whip back and forth trapped in the vicious London wind. However, the man right in front of him, nervously twisting his wand with that look in his eyes—he changed. Harry bloody Potter. At his door step. That look in Potter's eyes—worse than the hate and disgust— pity.

"Excuse me?" Draco drawled, schooling his face into a careful mask of boredom.

"The ministry would like me to inform you that— well, the thing is— maybe you'd like to sit down?"

Draco stared impassively, "I find that I can stand just fine. Spit it out already."

"Your mother's dead."

And just like that— nothing changed. The world kept going, the wind kept blowing, the people chattering, and the man in front of him didn't move. Draco blinked. And blinked again. Glancing up at the sky and swallowing he whispered the question that would ruin his life.

"Who?"

If Hermione had known that today would be the day that changed her life forever, she might have very well called in sick after she woke twenty minutes late, or after Crookshanks left a dead rat on the outfit she had laid out, or after her hair refused to cooperate, or after she realized she had no food in her house, or after she slipped on the white tile kitchen floor, or after she reached into the bag of floo powder and remembered she had run out, or even after she stumbled up to the lobby of the Ministry. By the time she reached her shabby office, she already felt ready to go home for the day.

She worked in a small research division funded by the Ministry to improve magical forensic techniques through the synthesis of magical and muggle methods. However, despite her plethora of advancements, her job mainly consisted of fruitlessly trying to convince aurors that her techniques would work.

Yet today, instead of the empty desk she normally arrived to every morning, a leaning tower of folders was on the surface, papers floating haphazardly around the enormous pile. Her hand had only barely touched a folder when a voice behind her startled her from her reverie.

"Hermione, this is one of the highest profile cases we have received since the Neo-Death Eater murder case five years ago. It's the most bizarre we have ever faced, and I know, this case might be tough for you, so just tell me if things—"

"Harry, calm down, what's going on? And this is the first bloody case you have finally decided to use my work! I went through a war too you know!"

"That's just the problem," Harry muttered. "It's just, the victims— the victims are all former Death Eaters or affiliated with them."

Hermione snorted, "Likely story, nothing has been printed in the Daily Prophet. Those are probably false reports."

"So far all of the families have asked us to keep it out of the press to prevent the fallout. The thing is Hermione, this case is extremely sensitive. Some aurors are arguing that these people deserved to die. At any moment, the Ministry could decide to drop it. These people— many weren't even Death Eaters; they deserve justice."

And just like that, Hermione's life would change forever.


	2. Chapter 2

A week later, Hermione was finally able to analyze the most recent. Narcissa Malfoy had been murdered two weeks ago, her body left in the Spore Forest. Named after the numerous magical spores found on magical mushrooms which grew prevalently there, many magical greenhouses were located nearby and it was a popular place for herbologists to research. In fact, it had been a herbologist who had found the dead body of Narcissa Malfoy, drenched in blood.

Hermione glanced down at the file once more. The case of Narcissa Malfoy was a bit problematic. The unknown subject, or "unsub" called colloquially by aurors, had seemingly diverged from his or her typical pattern in this specific killing. Perhaps the most chilling aspect of the case was the typical dump site of the murdered victims: the Forbidden Forest. Hermione had felt a peculiar chill run down her spine at the thought that the killer had access hundreds of children. The bodies of many Neo-Death Eaters and formers Death Eaters had been found— Crabbe, Goyle, McNair, Avery, Runcorn—the last was vast and expanding at a disturbingly fast rate. So many murdered— yet no one in the ministry seemed to care. Narcissa had been the eleventh victim of the killer's yearlong spree.

Hermione glanced at Harry while pulling her bushy hair into a sloppy ponytail. It seemed strange that they had only graduated seven years ago. Harry's face looked like one of a much older man— the crease between his eyebrows was ever-present and the bags beneath his eyes only grew larger. An entire year without progress on a case the ministry wished to brush under the carpet took its toll on poor Harry. Hermione only wished he had asked for her help sooner.

They trudged through a patch of tall grass reaching Hermione's knees before entering the thick of the forest. Mushrooms of varying sizes surrounded them, ranging from the size of a fingernail to almost the size of Hermione.

Harry swore under his breath, "Bloody hell, why are there so many of them?"

Unable to control herself, Hermione found herself reciting Goshawk's Guide to Herbology, "A forest with a thick canopy facilitates the perfect environment for magical mushroom and bacteria, specifically spore to grow. The trees prevent sunlight from penetrating into the environment causing a coolness that prevents the evaporation of water. With the combined cool and damp atmosphere, this forest is the most perfect location for magical mushrooms to grow."

Harry blinked, "Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."

Walking about half a mile further, Harry finally stopped in front of a particularly large and purple mushroom and nodded his head toward one of the most violent and horrendous sights Hermione had ever seen. Narcissa's body had been brutally shredded. Angry gashes cut through what once was a white dress, dying the whole dress a dark brown. The crusty blood seemed almost black and the air smelled vile. Hermione felt the urge to throw up. Harry finally spoke up as Hermione crouched down near the body.

"I think the spell used on her was sectumsempra or a variation of it," her murmured.

"Yet there's no evidence of cruciatus like the other victims," Hermione frowned. "I think, judging by the amount of blood on her clothing, she must have instead died from blood-loss. Perhaps she was paralyzed whilst the unsub used sectumsempra?" she asked while turning to look at Harry.

Harry nodded, "That sounds like my theory as well."

"Also, notice the disproportionate lack of blood pooling around her. The amount on her clothing and the amount needed to die of blood-loss would be vastly more," Hermione squinted. "Harry, Narcissa's body was moved to this dump site."

Leaning in closer, Hermione took a q-tip and swabbed the corners of Narcissa's mouth to test for poison. Next, she examined for additional bruising, noticing odd shaped marks around the base of Narcissa's neck. It was when she went to examine it closer, she noticed a long strand of red-hair trapped in Narcissa Malfoy's dangly diamond earrings. After extricating the red hair from the jewelry, Hermione held it up and grinned at Harry.

"Looks like I caught the killer."

"Hermione, I know this honestly goes without saying but everything here is completely confidential. You can't tell anyone— even the victim's families— about what we find. It could compromise the integrity of this case and if the press gets a hold of it," Harry sighed, "They'll have a bloody field day."

"Have I ever been one to break the rules?" Hermione sniffed primly.

"No, it's just that these families are quite," he paused. "Slytherin. They'll use any tactic to get information out of you."

"While I thank you for your concern, it's really nothing I can't deal with," Hermione frowned.

"I'm sure it isn't, you're right. This case has just been stressing me out," Harry said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Harry, you go back to your family. Honestly, spend time with Ginny and James. Merlin, Ginny's pregnant! Please, just spend time with them I can finish up out here and start the preparation for the result analysis tomorrow morning."

Guiltily glancing over his shoulder, Harry dutifully made his way back to the apparition point, leaving Hermione alone.

When she was finally finished taking samples from Narcissa's body, Hermione noticed the air had gone from chilly to freezing. While the shadiness of the forest hadn't been bad before, the forest was almost pitch black. Whispering a quiet lumos, Hermione's vision was limited to directly in front of her. Her footsteps sounded loud and clumsy against the deadly silence. There was a heaviness in the air, one that caused the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to raise. As she approached the apparition point of the forest, she heard a snap of a branch and an arm wrapped around her waist.

"Who killed Narcissa Malfoy?" A low voice whispered into her ear.

Twisting around violently, Hermione pulled her wand out and pressed it against the side of the firm body behind her.

"Let me go, or I'll make you regret it," she hissed.

Surprisingly, the arm disappeared from her waist. Whipping around, Hermione cast a lumos only to gasp at the face staring down at her.

"Malfoy?"


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, I'm actually really quite disappointed about how easy it was to attack you."

"Ha! So you do admit it was an attack!"

"Semantics. If anything it was more of a surprise. But that's beside the point, for someone working on a high-profile murder case of one of the wealthiest families of the wizarding world," he puffed out his chest a little, "I thought you would have more body guards."

Hermione rolled her eyes. After "surprising" her in the forest, Malfoy had somehow convinced her to eat a light supper with him. While under normal circumstances she would have never accepted, the forest's darkness combined with a slight pity for Malfoy after seeing his mother's dead body proved a lethal combination. Which was how she ended up here, walking alongside an overly arrogant Malfoy. As he made a beeline for a high-class French restaurant at the end of the street, Hermione pulled him into the Three Broomsticks before he could protest.

Malfoy sniffed distastefully at the crowded pub.

"Really, Granger? I knew your tastes were plebeian, but this is a little much," he said, sneering at anyone who dared give him a passing glance.

Hermione wisely ignored him and headed up to the counter, ordering two Butterbeers, ignoring Malfoy's pleads for Firewhiskey. As they settled into a dim, less crowded corner of the pub, Malfoy began to speak.

"So, about my mother. Any real clues?" he asked. Although his face was schooled into the perfect expression of casual curiosity, Hermione could hear a certain edge to his tone, his gray eyes staring a little too intensely at her.

"Look Malfoy, what happened to your mother is absolutely wrong, and I want to solve this almost as much as you. But, I'm really not at liberty to speak here."

"Why can't you tell me? It's not like I killed her! Please, I have to know. Granger, please," his eyes gleamed with desperation. "I know I was nasty and awful to you, and you can hate me all you want. But please, I need to know. My mother— she's all I have. I guess had, now," his voice cracked a little.

Hermione wilted, "Malfoy, I forgave you and your mother when you helped fight against the Neo-Death Eaters. Your rulings in the Wizengamot are fair and without the bias of your father," Draco looked surprised. "However, I am not allowed to tell any of the victims' families affected by this disgusting murderer any information in order to protect the integrity of this case."

Draco straightened, his eyes narrowed, "You mean there's more victims besides my mother?"

Hermione hadn't realized her mistake and desperately tried to fix it, knowing it was futile.

"I just meant in general. Yes, yes, I am not allowed to tell any civilian family-member affected by a murder any information regarding the perpetrator."

Draco stared at her dead in the eyes. "Fine Granger, if that's how this is going to be," he sighed. "I won't waste your time, good day," he nodded toward her and stalked out of the Three Broomsticks.

The next day was another chaotic morning for Hermione. She had fallen out of bed seventeen minutes late, run out of conditioner, been unable to work a comb through her matted hair, Crookshanks had ripped her new office skirt, and, consequently, she was exactly twenty-seven minutes late for work. As she neared her office, she was startled by a strangely familiar drawl.

"I hope this sort of unprofessionalism isn't common here."

The nasally voice of Percy Weasley replied, "I have no idea what sort of behaviors are allowed under Harry Potter's loose system. You'll find that not everyone here takes their job seriously," he sniffed.

Hermione took a deep breath, choosing to believe the stress of this case was causing her to hear voices and headed toward her office. Outside the door an immaculately dressed Draco Malfoy stood. He wore a dark three piece suit with a black robe overtop. His hair was swept to the side, each hair combed perfectly into place. He loomed over her, looking down at her petite frame imperiously. Percy cleared his throat.

"Your tardiness was quite the impression for Mr. Malfoy's first day here," he pursed his lips together. "He has been hired by the ministry to help you on this case as all of the Aurors are unavailable to join you."

"What about Harry?" Hermione's voice rose.

"You'll find that as the next-in-line for the head of the Auror Office, Harry has other responsibilities. Additionally, he has requested time off in the upcoming year for his next child's birth," Percy sniffed. "Well, I'll leave you to brief Mr. Malfoy on his job here. Good day," and with that Percy turned on his heel and stalked off.

Draco smirked down at Hermione. Neither moved.

"Why?"

"If I said I said it was because I'm madly in love with you, would you believe me?" Malfoy smirked.

"No," Hermione said flatly.

"Aww, my heart is broken," Malfoy pouted. But his eyes turned dark, "I'm here because my mother was murdered in cold blood by a bloody serial killer, and no one will tell me shit. I intend to solve this case whether you want my help or not."

"But-but how were you able to get this position?" Hermione asked.

"I'm on the Wizengamot and have more money than Potter has sycophants. There's nothing I can't do," Malfoy drawled.

Without asking, Malfoy barged into Hermione's small office, and immediately sat in her large, comfortable, rolling chair, putting his expensive Italian leather shoes on her desk. Picking up a random file of the desk, he randomly began flipping through papers. Hermione reached across her desk and tried to grab the file from his hands. However, his quidditch reflexes were as sharp as ever— he moved the file just out of her reach before she could grab it.

Hermione growled, "You take my chair, my office, my files; have some respect Malfoy."

But he only smiled sweetly back at her and continued his reading.

Hearing the sound of flapping, Hermione pushed open the window seeing Harry's owl, a small, tawny bird named Signe. Grabbing the letter, Hermione apologized profusely to the bird.

"I'm so sorry; I have not owl treats on me. Maybe next time? You flew all the way here and I have nothing to give you." Signe glared at her and flapped away.

Hermione turned around to see Draco staring at her blankly.

"Did you just beg forgiveness from a bird?"

Ignoring him, Hermione broke open the letter.

Hermione,

I'm writing you from Hogwarts right now. There's been another murder.

Floo to McGonagall's office.

Harry

Malfoy, who must have been surreptitiously reading the note over shoulder, grabbed his cloak which he had strewn across her desk and ran to the door, heading towards the atrium.

Once arriving, he nodded at Hermione proclaiming, "Age before beauty."

Sighing, Hermione grabbed floo powder and shouted "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmistress' Office!"

Hermione had never been able to investigate Hogwarts previously. Unfortunately, in order to wrap up the previous murders quickly and keep the murders hidden from students, the Aurors had done a mere cursory inspection, snapped some crime scene photographs, and cleaned up the scene before any attention could be drawn to them.

The body of Augustus Rookwood age forty-six, had been uncovered in the Forbidden Forest by Hagrid. A member of the Neo-Death Eaters, Rookwood had helped to commit countless atrocities, acting as a spy in the Second Wizarding War and a strategist in the Neo-Death Eater Revival of 2000. He was a disgusting and depraved man, yet his high-class connections, enormous wealth, and numerous safe-houses kept him from the dark cell in Azkaban that he deserved. However, despite any fate Rookwood might deserve, this vigilante justice was cold-blooded murder. No single man should be able to hold the fate of another in his hands. While Rookwood might have deserved his fate, did the countless others deserve the fates the unsub had delivered them to?

Coughing, Hermione tripped out of the fireplace in the Headmistress' Office, stumbling across the red Oriental rug. An arm grabbed her waist, steadying her. She glanced up at Malfoy and he immediately dropped his hand and stepped to the side, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall sat primly in a giant bronze chair, her lips pursed together. Harry's back was turned to Hermione.

"— I know you take your duties as a Headmistress very seriously, but this is a murder investigation!"

"Mr. Potter, I cannot simply allow for you to barge into the protected halls of my school, and invade my student's privacy!"

"Your students may not have lives if the murderer is allowed to roam free!" Harry roared.

Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, Hermione smiled politely at her favorite professor.

"Hello, Headmistress, it's nice to finally see you again. I regret that it must take place in these circumstances."

"Indeed," Headmistress McGonagall said, allowing a tiny smile to quirk her lips upward.

"We understand your apprehension, but perhaps we could propose a compromise? May the professors compile a list of students who have acted suspicious in the past year? We can already eliminate students younger than third year because they would not have the knowledge or strength to subdue and murder people much older with more battle experience—"

Draco interrupted, "In fact, we can eliminate minors altogether. Due to the decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, no student could have murdered Avery and MacNair this summer without the ministry knowing."

Hermione frowned. She hated being wrong. "Well a student could still be involved in the murder. Perhaps a professor could compile a list of anyone they deemed suspicious."

Draco cut her off again, "But what if the perpetrator is the professor?"

Hermione gasped, "A professor? No professor would do such a thing!"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Perhaps we could interview all of the professors here instead?"

McGonagall slowly nodded her head, "I suppose that could be put into order."

Harry who had been standing off to the side, was looking suspiciously at Draco.

"What's he doing here?" Harry asked.

"I was hired by Gawain Robards as a partner—"

"Bodyguard," Hermione corrected.

Draco rolled his eyes, "As a bodyguard to Granger."

Harry huffed, "I could take care of her!"

"Like you did when you left her yesterday—alone— at the murder site of my mother."

Harry grew redder.

"Look Potter, I'm on the Wizengamot. I'm aware of the movement to replace Robards with you when he retires. You can't be expected to complete all of your bureaucratic work and make time for this case."

Harry nodded, but his mouth was pursed in a harsh line.

"So I guess we should see the body."

Augustus Rookwood's body was splayed across the cool taller grass near the mouth of the Forbidden Forest. It seemed that the killer's placement of the body was getting more and more bold. While the original bodies were discovered deep in the forest, the recent bodies were dumped closer and closer towards the mouth of the forest.

Hermione stooped down by the lanky body of Rookwood. His body, consistent with the previous pattern of the killer, was extremely different from Narcissa Malfoy. While Narcissa was covered in outward signs of torture, Rookwood showed all the classic signs of the cruciatus curse. His fingernails had drawn blood from clenching his hands in fists. His hair was matted with sweat. There was bruising around his wrists as blood flow to the limbs had been impacted by the heavy stress of the cruciatus curse on his heart. Most disturbingly, when Hermione opened his mouth, his lips crusted over with blood, she discovered a slimy object buried in his throat. Drawing the object from the viscous, sticky blood, Hermione felt nauseous: it was a tongue. Under the extreme prolonged torture, Rookwood must have bitten off his own tongue. It looked like the ultimate cause of his death might have been from choking on his own blood.

"So can we still test for poison or a paralyzer, since his mouth has been," Draco paused, "compromised?"

Hermione nodded slowly, "We can take samples from his hair follicles; especially since he's dead the drugs given to him up to forty-eight hours ago wouldn't have been metabolized yet."

She plucked a few hairs from Rookwood's scalp and scraped some skin in a plastic bag. Hermione suspected that like Narcissa, Rookwood's body had been moved post-mortem. Yet other than that, their deaths had few other similarities.

Hermione nodded at Malfoy, "I think we're finished here. Let's begin our interviews with the professors."

The current staff list included Slughorn, Hagrid, Flitwick, Sinistra, Bathsheda Babbling, Binns, Trelawney, and Hooch. Although Neville taught Herbology in previous years, Headmistress McGonagall had informed Hermione he had taken the year off for personal research. In his place, Professor Sprout taught the current students.

"So who's the new Defense Against Dark Arts Professor this year?" Malfoy smirked.

Hermione frowned, "A woman named Blanche Millefeuille. She apparently graduated from Beauxbatons a few years before us. This is actually her second year here."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, "The Millefeuille family is actually quite old," he made a face. "Actually, I'm pretty sure a member of her family, Luc Millefeuille, actually poisoned muggles that came to his bakery when I was a child. It was sort of a joke."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

Although none of the professors seemed suspicious with the exception of Blanche, Hermione also found it difficult to separate herself from her personal connections. She was fighting every instinct she had to actually suspect a professor.

"Well, let's start with Blanche then," she sighed.

In a surprising show of camraderie, Malfoy patted her back.


End file.
